"hi. one blowjob, please"
"very well, sir, please follow me this way. it will be 200"
"200! i've only got 50"
"i'm sorry sir, 50 won't do... well, i'm easy game. 100 would be alright"
"lady, you push me hard for a bargain there, but that's okay with me, too."
"this way, please."
"how about something for entree? Say, foreplay?"
"im sorry, sir, foreplay is only included in the long-term-relationship course that will cost you much more"
12.9174214, 77.6389647
They make a run for their lives. After patiently watching the cat and mouse chase that seemed to be on the losing side for our cat, a well built young andhra guy who sadly found himself at the receiving end of some drunken foolery when a couple of youth smashed his car windscreen with their bottle of poison but who courageously decided to teach them a lesson (with a big L), I decide to give chase just for the kicks. I've never been in a chase before.without populating my head with any fears - like the unknown terrain of the unlit deserted dirt track ahead in this unknown town (quick fact: it had been under 24 hours of me in this city of hyderabad), or the sandals I was to be running in, or that I had no idea about what these two miscreants could turn out to be, or if they were carrying any weapons to surprise moi - my engine of legs powered by the fuel from my lungs picked steam, making ugly clapping noises on the track, thanks to the sandals. In the space of next few seconds I passed the great bulk of Parth, then our cat who despite the looks, build, and aggression of the usual hero had failed to take those miraculous 10ft strides to catch up with the bad guys and had now been trying to compensate for his speed by the tactic of screaming "chor... pakdo... chor...", one that was futile on this deserted stretch, then I crossed a guard peering from his guest house gates startled awake from his sleep by the commotion, then finally the prized head of my target - guy 2.
Guy 2 was a fool to not stop at my warnings. He had it coming. We both were at a challenge while our feet pumped out 100 kmph. My first attempt was blocked out, and I saw my phone with the flashlight on hit the ground. Still running, I took him down with my second challenge. Being drunk one can't act to smart but neither have the capacity to realize that. I threw him against the wall, he ended up on the ground. I simply held him pinned to the ground, violence isn't my forte. As soon as our cat made it there, we swapped possession of #2 and I ran for #1, against a background score of Andhra cussing and thuds and punches. Second guy had taken left from the crossroads another 80m ahead and disappeared. easiest guess was that he entered this vacant plot. I directed the policeman (cyberabad police) to this detail. Soon he walked out with guy #1 who had merely taken refuge behind an outhouse in the shrubs. The police van had been wise to have been coming from the opposite dir.
With the job done and the fun over, I walked back to our car to find the A eagerly waiting. "a jolly good show, my good sir," I exclaimed.
Second long day on the road in three. But in contrast to the day before, today was a challenge and a discovery. Been through the states, and I must say, down south its a lot more fun to travel by the road. The major highways invite superlatives, and the lesser ones are bad but not as bad. Weather made it seem nowhere close to the middle of summer that we had imagined. It was almost a near death call seeing the A asleep on the wheel and slowly veering of the road, but to luck he didn't, and to luck there was nothing incoming. Down south its funny - the signs keep you puzzled and then you feel a relief that you don't need to bother with every village's affair; the people don't get you but you soon learn to get only the relevant specifics; the scenes across these parts are a varied as the language they speak. I only wonder why the cows remain an ever constant when the people aren't.
Taste the whip, in love not given lightly.Cindy will not leave my head. Her torment is historic. (this is a recondite topic, so people outside the net culture don't need be curious here) Her story is the longest sadist trajectory I've ever seen human imagination take in modern times. I am reminded of the waitress at Lah last evening, a sober-yet-unsettling female with tattoos on her arm and a band-aid on her right shoulder; wonder what all she could go through, in my head where chapters intersect.
"The target's presence in the state continues to be a distabalising influence. He is largely responsible for the recent influx of weapons in the country, in clear violation of the Joint Signatory Framework. His reputation as a dangerous arms dealer... is well deserved." *points gun at himself* "Orders are to terminate." Well that didn't work out the way they planned- I'm still breathing and you're the one with malaria. You can tell them you tried. But that means fuck-all, doesn't it? You're fired, you know it and so do I. You had your shot but now it's over. And since men like you only work for money, you're no longer my problem. You'll have to find something else to do with yourself now. What your old clients don't seem to understand is that they can't kill me. Do you understand what I'm saying? Nobody kills me. NOBODY. *embeds machete into the wall next to the players head* I'm the one who decides who lives and who dies, me! You know, there's a book I read a long time ago. I still think about it every day. It helps me understand life out here. The book talks about men- what motivates them. It's simple, really. "A living being seeks above all else to discharge its strength. Life itself is will to power. Nothing else matters." *tosses the gun onto the table* So long.
Sleep has been my pseudo state ever since I woke up from my sleep.
Sleepy, I was at the tennis courts with yogi. Sleepy, I managed the nonsense at home around a breakfast that was more like a dinner meal - dal and burnt sabzi complemented with experimental dessert of curd topped with rhododendron extract. Sleepy, I set of for work. Sleepy, I found myself having actually made it to the workplace. Sleepy, I topped up on coffee. Sleepy, I realized the futility of the previous activity. Sleepy, I daydreamed of a satisfying sleep soon as I returned home. Sleepy, I finished trying out a google doodle. Sleepy, I engaged in distracted conversations with the people in charge.
Sleepy, I blog.
It all comes to the late nighter, spent much in celebration of setting up my desktop at yogi's place, split between Far Cry 2, a Bengali film Gandu, and the art house cinema of Pradeep Kishen's Massey Babu. though exciting things were in anticipation of this night, I soon found lacking an accomplice, as all my tasteful selections were not digested well by the Y, whose sleep talking by the fifth chapter of M.B. reminded me to never imagine a carnivalesque atmosphere around outside the mainstream stuff i.e. the big bang theory or angry birds. But yet, alone, I dived deep into the night's existence, until the Y started to complain about the discomfort my viewing was causing him. Then I tuned myself out of the euphoria of cinema, sat in silence for a while, then resigned to sleep.
Here is a quck reminder of what to expect from me:
Type B
Best traits: Wild, active, doer, creative, passionate, strong
Worst traits: Selfish, irresponsible, unforgiving, unpredictable
Every culture seems to have a pseudoscience. Some idiots turn to linda goodman, some to bejan daruwala, some to nirmal baba. Even butt reading is a fledgling science now. The japs turn to their blood science, which is a counterpart to indian astrology. Only difference being that while astrology gets importance only in our personal sphere (how two faced of us), their pseudoscience participates across all spheres of life, personal and professional.
Burahara - blood harrassment -is what they call this discriminatin based on one's blood type.
I find myself smitten by what i see and where i stand right now. If the 19 hrs of travel was a dampener - both of the spirits and the single change of clothes I brought to this trek - then this seems like a redemptory act by nature.
We did start to curse things a bit after breaking our butts on various transports between Delhi to Sari, but this last push to Deoria Tal has left us in greater understanding of the way these things go - that the first day is always annoying, that starts are always a mocking act (at ze greater act that you set out for), but that once the ball gets rolling (or feet get trolling) is where the fun starts.
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